


The Fate of Pierrot

by ThatVermilionFlyCatcher



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Carnival, Columbine - free form, F/M, Harlequin - Free form, Masquerade, Music, Pierrot - free form, Waltzing, commedia dell'arte
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2018-11-30 11:38:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11462814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatVermilionFlyCatcher/pseuds/ThatVermilionFlyCatcher
Summary: He always thought that life had a twisted sense of humor but this time reality was surpassing any possible figment of his imagination.In which teacher!Mr. Gold is forced to attend a costume ball prom as a chaperone and decides to dress up as Pierrot. He didn't expect to find Columbine there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [El destino de Pierrot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11319399) by [ThatVermilionFlyCatcher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatVermilionFlyCatcher/pseuds/ThatVermilionFlyCatcher). 



> There are very few Rumbelle fics that feature carnival or masquerades so I decided to make my contribution. I'd love to see other other takes on this theme!
> 
> While I was writing this fic, I couldn't take out of my head the Masquerade Waltz by Aram Khachaturian, so I think it could be a good soundtrack for it.
> 
> As English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you may find in this fic. Grammar and spelling corrections are more than welcome.

He always thought that life had a twisted sense of humor but this time reality was surpassing any possible figment of his imagination.

He knew since the moment Regina, Storybrooke High’s principal, announced that prom was to be a costume ball, that this was going to end badly. His fears were confirmed when his name was between the ones drawn to chaperone the ball and Regina made clear that it was absolutely impossible to attend without a costume.

It wasn't that he had not tried to look the less ridiculous possible: the only difference in his customary suit was the colors: jacket, slacks and tie in white, shirt and shoes in black. Apart from that, the white half mask with a black tear and a carnation of the same color in his pocket were the only things that revealed his character's identity: Pierrot.

He had thought it to be a clever idea and would have continued to consider it so, if Belle French, _miss Belle French_ , had not chosen, of all the characters available, Columbine.

 _Oh, the irony_. Since the moment the young Literature teacher joined the staff of the school, Mr. Gold had found himself drawn to her; and as time went on those feelings deepened more and more. She was smart and fresh and one of the few people he felt comfortable talking with about anything  without growing tired soon. He had played in his mind one thousand and one conversations in which he asked her out for a coffee or an ice cream, but he never came to make them a reality. When he had finally gathered the courage to ask her out, he had discovered that she had just been asked out by the Sports teacher, Mr. LeGume.

Many months had passed since then and he was expecting to see him appear next to her at any moment. The last straw would be if he showed up dressed as… Harlequin.

If he were not in this conjuncture he would have found the sight extraordinarily amusing. The tight multicolored suit with its triangular pattern made the musculature of the teacher look even more grotesque and the black mask was almost disappearing in the enormity of his square head. Mr. LeGume said something to miss French and then headed towards the bar.

The teacher was hypnotic, more than ever. The black corset with the three typical white carnations hugged perfectly her slim waist, and the gauzy white knee length skirt, with its black lace trim made her legs look even more slender than usual. A pair of high black pumps and long dress gloves, one of each color completed the outfit. A white mask crowned by golden feathers framed the cascade of her auburn curls... and her bright smile.  was she smiling… _at him ?_

He looked around, seeking the addressee of that smile but it was clear that he was the only one looking towards her in that moment. In what felt like a split second she was right in front of him, her smile as wide as before.

"Monsieur Pierrot,"  greeted she with a playful curtsy.   

"Mademoiselle Colombine,"  answered he with a bow.

Neither of them knew what to say next. The music’s volume didn't allow for much conversation either.

A few moments later Harlequin was back with a drink for Belle and another for himself. Both men greeted each other briefly and the three of them kept watch over the dancing young ones for several minutes until Jefferson, the Music teacher, dressed as the Mad Hatter, came to ask Columbine for the honor of a dance with her. She agreed and both disappeared in the crowd. Gaston, turning towards Mr. Gold, said:

"She looks gorgeous tonight, doesn't she?"

"Indeed she does, Mr. Gold replied," unwilling to talk further about the subject but Gaston didn't seem to notice.

"We are to be engaged tonight."

Mr. Gold was grateful that his face was half covered by a mask and the place rather dark.  However, he couldn't help but jerk his head towards the Harlequin.

Gaston added:

"Well, she hasn't said “yes” yet, but she surely will. The other day I asked her who was she going to dress up as and she said 'Colombian'. I asked her who she thought would be a good character for me and she said 'Harlequin'. Guess what? I looked up about him: he ends up with Colombian!"

Colombian _._ Mr. Gold thanked a second time that his face’s expression was not visible. What miss French saw in that man he couldn't grasp, but the message was clear. This was the end. It seemed that he was fated to always be Pierrot. It had been the case with his wife: she had cheated on him even before they were married, and she had run away with her lover (and half of his money) as soon as she got the divorce.

Seeing that Mr. Gold answered nothing, Gaston tried to rekindle the conversation:

"Your costume of Two-face is impressive. I like it."

Mr. Gold nodded slightly and Gaston took it as an acknowledgment for the compliment. Cane in hand, Mr. Gold immersed himself into the crowd of young people that filled the dance floor. He knew that if he spent another minute next to that man he wouldn't be able to hold himself in check.

Suddenly, a gloved hand took his arm and when he turned around he found Columbine looking at him through the mask with her unique grin.

"The next one is a waltz. Would you like to dance it with me?"

Mr. Gold lowered his eyes as if pointing with them towards his cane and answered:

"I’m not in the best condition for a dance."

"We can dance a bit slower, and if you hold tight to me, I can be your cane. What do you say?"

Mr. Gold considered the offer. It would probably be his last and only chance to dance with Belle. Belle and Mr. Gold. Columbine and Pierrot.  Sick jokes of life. He tried to smile while hanging his cane on his arm and extending his hand to take Belle’s, as the first measures of the waltz filled the air.

 _Masquerade Waltz?_ Mr. Gold thought as he tripped for the first time _Who on earth…?_

"Hold tight," scolded Belle, drawing his hand closer to the middle of her back and closing some inches the gap between them, "I can't support you if you don't."

 _Oh, great_ , Mr. Gold thought, feeling the heat going up to his face. He was dancing the waltz of an opera which plot revolved around the jealousy of a husband for the behavior of his wife on a ball. With the soon to be fiancée of another man. The lights and the splashes of color became a blurry wall around him as they swirled again and again. They were themselves and then not themselves anymore. Columbine’s smile was the only clear point in the middle of the multicolor tornado, from which he couldn't take his eyes off. It was those bright blue eyes in which that face, his face, Pierrot’s face, was reflected. Pierrot and Columbine. Him and her. Mr. Gold and miss French.  Faces a few inches apart, cheeks flushing red and the world spinning uncontrollably around them.

The final beat of the timpani was echoing in their fast beating hearts as they finally stopped, panting, feeling each other’s breath in their heated faces. Mr. Gold had to make an almost superhuman effort to not kiss her right away. The next thing he saw, over Belle's shoulder was the approaching figure of Harlequin, a velvet box in his hand. _It doesn't matter how many times the play is performed, the ending is always the same_. Pierrot released Columbine. His head was low now and the shadow of the mask covered his eyes. He kept her hand in his, hand that was soon to wear a ring, a ring that wouldn’t be put by him.

"Thank you, Columbine. It has been a pleasure to dance with you tonight. I wish you all happiness possible."

He gently kissed the gloved hand, let go of it and turned around to leave. The same hand took his arm and forced him to retrace his steps. The smile had disappeared from Columbine’s face. The dismayed blue eyes looked at him through the mask.

"It's ok, don't be sad. This is the fate of Pierrot," he said before he could refrain his words. A tear of diamond appeared from behind the black one. "Goodbye."

He bowed slightly and put her hand on Harlequin’s, who had just appeared beside them. He turned around and disappeared in the crowd.

Belle felt lightheaded, as if trapped in a nightmare, doing a part in a play she didn't know she was in. Without knowing how or why, in a split second the music had stopped and Gaston was on one knee. His hand was offering her a blue velvet box in which a diamond ring sparkled.

"Come on, Belle, tell me you will be my wife. You are Columbine; I am Harlequin. We are destined to be together since ever and forever."

Belle gaped at him. _This is the fate of Pierrot._ The words echoed in her ears. She was Columbine, he was Pierrot. And Pierrot loved Columbine more than anything in the World. _He loves me. He truly loves me_ , she told herself to the rythm of the waltz she was dancing minutes before with the man she was madly in love with, but who she thought was not interested in her. He was Pierrot, she was Columbine; but this Columbine made her own destiny.

 

***

 

Mr. Gold exited the ball and the cold wind hit his heated cheeks. He couldn't bear the scene he knew was taking place inside. In a a few minutes Belle French was to be Gaston LeGume’s fiancée. He didn't care what Regina was going to say to him once she found out he had went away before the ending of the ball. He didn't want to face this, not today. What for? This was the end. _This is the fate of Pierrot._

 

_On his cheek,_

_A big tear shines:_

_It has been his lot to spend his life_

_alone with his heart._

 

"¡Andreas!"

Mr. Gold stopped dead in his tracks. It was that voice, _her voice,_ Calling him? He turned around. There she was, even more beautiful, if possible, under the spell of the full Moon’s silvery light...

"Belle" - It sounded like a prayer in his voice, the first time he allowed himself to taste that name in his lips. Was he dreaming? - "What…?"

"You know? I never liked Pierrot’s fate. and I am here to change it."

Before he could answer anything, she closed his mouth with a kiss. Mr. Gold started but he quickly closed his eyes and kissed passionately those lips he thought were lost to him forever, finally having that most precious treasure in his arms.

"I don't understand," he finally said, when the need for air made them pull away.

"The one who doesn't understand is Mr. LeGume. I don't love him. I have told him many times that I think he and I never would be a good match. It seems like he doesn't hear me when I talk to him."

"Then, Why? Why did you go out with him?"

"Because I thought that you were not interested in me and I decided to try somewhere else. But I can't get you out of of my head and my heart, Andreas Gold, even if I try with all my might."

And there it was again, Columbine’s smile shinning as bright as her eyes, full of love and mischief.

"Wait," Mr. Gold said, an intuition sparkling in the back of his eyes and a sly smile growing in his face. "that means you told him to dress up as Harlequin because…"

"Oh, I wouldn't have missed that for anything in the World."

Her laughter blended with his and both ended up in other kiss.

"Do you think we should go back?"  Asked Belle.

"After the little scene Harlequin and Columbine made there?"  he snorted. "Madam headmistress would prefer Jefferson to give the address to the parents at commencement any given day."

Belle laughed closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"Now that I think about it, Mr. LeGume has probably found certain sympathetic tea… ahem, Harley Quinn to court and we don't want to make him uncomfortable, do we?"

"Oh, you are right, as usual, teacher Gold,"  teased her. 

"I am thinking, teacher French, that we have been here outside for quite long and that I have danced with you and kissed you twice tonight… and despite it I haven't had the minimal decency of inviting you even a drink." He offered her his arm with exaggerated gesture. "I know of a really good Italian Ice Cream Parlor a few blocks from here. Would you like an ice cream, miss French?"

"Yes,"she said, smiling and holding his arm. "I hope we don't scare the clerks with our costumes," She added on a more serious tone.

"Didn't you bring with you the bag with the dollar sign for the robbery? You are a terrible Columbine. Or should I say 'Colombian'?"

Belle muffled a chortle and tried to scold him unsuccessfully. The two whimsical figures in black and white, arm in arm walked - or danced, who can say? - down the street, the full Moon being the only witness, pouring her silvery light on them as a silent accomplice.

 

***

 

Here it ends, with unexpected outcome, this singular story of silver and reverie, moon and night, black and white, Pierrot and Columbine, one heart beating in two chests.

 


	2. Up in the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle reading Five Weeks In a Balloon inspires Mr. Gold to plan a very special gift for their first anniversary.

  


Andreas let his eyes wander from the tests he was grading towards the still figure of his wife. She was laying on the couch, a soft smile painted in her lips as she turned the pages of a novel, oblivious to the world around her. Belle’s smile was contagious, and he found himself smiling in turn. He was as smitten with her as ever. They had been married for almost a year now, and if he thought on the day of their wedding that he couldn’t love her even more than he already did, he was mistaken.

Belle reached for her glass of wine and was only then that she noticed the loving gaze upon her and returned it.

“If Mr. Hopper were to find you reading  _ Five Weeks in a Balloon _ he’d spend a week trying to find the words to politely tell you how geographically, historically, and culturally inaccurate it is.”

She rolled her eyes feigning annoyance, but he knew that she was teasing as much as he was.

“If I don’t get to visit those places, I might as well fantasize about them.” She couldn’t refrain the slight bitterness that seeped through her statement.

“We’ll get there, Belle.”

She looked towards the “travel jar” on the mantelpiece. It had its bottom covered by little pieces of paper in which they wrote every amount of money they got to save since they got married in order to travel abroad.

“By the time we finally get the amount we need, we are going to be too old to travel. We should spend it in something else.”

“Don’t say that…” he tried to sound as reassuring as he could “we have been married for less than a year, we paid for the wedding and then the honeymoon…”

“I’m not paying the apartment’s rent anymore, and we cut down on our electricity and internet spending when I moved here.”

He sighed, defeated. She closed the book and laying it aside walked up to him and sat on his lap, being careful as to not to bother his bad leg. He welcomed her by putting his arms around her waist and drawing her closer to him. She took off his glasses and then put her arms around his neck, looking deeply into his eyes.

“I can sell my hair if you want.” He teased. Belle always had that effect on him. She made him feel bolder, stronger, capable of anything as long as it made her happy.

“I don’t. I’d miss it terribly.” She answered, intertwining her fingers in the hair of his nape. “I chose you before, I choose you know, and I will choose you tomorrow. You are the only thing I need to be truly happy.”

“I love you, sweetheart. With you, I am the happiest man on earth.”

“I love you, too.” She gave him a peck on the lips and asked: “How much you have left to finish?”

“Just a couple more.”

Belle said something on his ear that made a pulse jolt through his body, and standing up she winked and added before leaving the room: 

“I’ll wait for you upstairs.”

The fire on the hearth died slowly as he made his way through the last tests, the noise of Belle getting ready for bed enticing him to finish and soothing him at the same time. He carefully put the graded tests on an envelope and then the envelope into his suitcase. He put his glasses away and squeezed his eyes. He let his arms fall on the table with a sigh. His eyes wandered to the jar and then to the book on the coffee table. Their anniversary wasn’t that far ahead. What if…?

“Aren’t you coming?” Belle’s voice called from upstairs and he decided to think about it in the morning. He turned off the lights and picking up the book, joined his wife upstairs.

***

Belle put the last things on her travel bag and checked the list to make sure that she had put all the things they needed for the trip. The crackling of a tap behind the wall told her that her husband had just finished his shower. It was the day before their anniversary and he had prepared a surprise that involved a long car trip, so they had taken a day off at the school.

After a quick breakfast, one of those quick breakfasts that are good, because the hurry is due to excitement and not to anxiety, they closed the door of their house behind them and loaded their luggage on the trunk of their car. When Belle was about to open the door on the passenger’s side, she noticed an improvised envelope, made off a blank music sheet, stuck on the door’s window. Scrabbled with Jefferson’s unmistakable writing, was this message: 

 

“A very happy anniversary to my favourite lovebirds. The very much needed [selection of music](https://open.spotify.com/user/nadinamc/playlist/3xUuWoyJNvefXuBHG6RFpW?si=GhpXQ8pSRwWrhRaBtwe2dg) you need for your carpool karaoke, from your humble servant. I’ll collect your “thank you”s later.” Jefferson.

 

Belle chuckled and shook her head as she got into the car and started reading the list of songs.

“Adele, Ed Sheeran, The Cranberries, Bob Sinclar… ¿Silvio d’Anza? ¿Richi e Poveri? Chichi Peralta…”

Belle looked sideways and bursted laughing when her husband sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Jefferson.”

“Let’s give it a try!”

The engine started and Belle spent the first few hours on the road giggling at every new song, looking up the lyrics and singing off key to the tune. Mr Gold smiled softly at her antics, stole glimpses of her from time to time and, even if he wouldn’t confess it to a soul, sang along with her for a bit, too.

After lunch, Belle took the wheel and her husband seized the opportunity to take a nap. When Belle was sure he was asleep, she bit her lip and reached to see the destination he had marked on the GPS, to find out that it only indicated geographical coordinates, no location name. She huffed quietly. The only thing she knew was that they were heading south. After dinner he took the wheel again.

“Just a few more hours, sweetheart.”

She smiled softly and fixated her gaze on the road, contemplating the last lights of the day as they disappeared under the horizon. She soon fell asleep, and her husband started to rehearse the respiratory exercises to control anxiety that he had read about. He had always been afraid of heights. The lady over the phone had told him that the possibilities of vertigo were slim, but he liked to be prepared for any eventuality.

It was half past five in the morning when he could finally see the lights in the field and slowed down to wake his wife.

“Belle, sweetheart, wake up.”

She yawned and reached to kiss him. He kissed her back and gestured towards the horizon.

“look over there.”

Belle gasped when she saw several hot air balloons glowing in the dark a few miles away.

“It’s… wonderful.”

She continued to contemplate mesmerized the scene in front of them, as they approached the festival. They parked the car close to the entrance and stepped out to the chill of dawn. Belle buttoned up her coat and huggled up on her husband’s side as they made their way towards the tents in which several vendors offered all kinds of food and drinks to fight the cold.

Once they had a coffee and a doughnut each, they headed towards the park. The sky was now clearer, but not enough to override the lights inside the balloons. Belle and Andreas paced through the lanes, enjoying the view and watching the different teams unfold and fill their balloons. 

After a while, they heard a voice call their names:

“Mr. Gold! Mrs. Gold!”

A young man was shouting in their direction and gesturing wildly with his arms. Belle squinted until he recognized one of her former students.

“Kevin!”

The boy grinned and curtsied theatrically when the couple reached his side.

“Everything is ready for ascension in half an hour, sir.” He turned to look at Belle and added “I hope the airship will be to your liking, my lady.”

She looked to her husband with a small frown.

“Andreas, What’s going on?”

“Well, I may not be able to take you around the world, but I can show it to you from above.”

“But… you have always been afraid of heights…”

“I’ll be fine, as long as you are with me.”

Belle hesitated and studied her husband’s face with concern. He squeezed her hands and said:

“Ready to conquer the sky, Mrs. Gold?”

She finally bit her lip and answered:

“Yes.”

He then gestured towards the balloon and asked:

“What do you think?”

Belle then turned to look at it. The green background of the balloon’s surface was almost totally covered by a pattern of enormous red roses. the pilot was already on the basket, heating up the air inside the envelope.

“It’s... wonderful.”

“Let’s go for a ride, then,” he breathed in her ear, and she caught his lips in a peck.

“This way,” Kevin indicated, opening the door of the basket for them.

Belle took her husband’s hand and almost ran towards the balloon. Once she had stepped inside, she reached to help Andreas. He gave her his cane and then, aided only by her hand, joined her in. Kevin closed the door of the basket and he and the other members of the crew started to untie the artifact, that responded by hovering over the ground.

The balloon started to ascend slowly, and Andreas prepared himself for the vertigo that, surprisingly enough, didn’t came. Soon the bustle of the festival was behind, the whizz of the burner the only noise to disturb the silence.

“Oh my goodness, Andreas, this is so beautiful!”

Dozens of balloons decorated with all the colors of the rainbow populated the clear sky of the early morning, and a gentle breeze blew spreading them in all directions. The buildings and the trees grew more and more little as they made their way in the air. 

A few minutes later they were facing the Sandia Mountains in all their majesty, the rays of the raising sun bathing the tops. Belle squeezed excitedly Andreas’ hand.

“This is a dream… this is a dream came true.”

Her eyes were shining brightly as she took deep breaths and smiled uncontrollably. He hugged her from behind and kissed her shoulder, overwhelmed by the beauty of the scenery and the love of his wife.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart”

“Happy anniversary. I love you,” answered her, turning around. “I have something for you… it isn’t much,” she added, opening her bag and drawing a package from it.

“Belle, you didn’t have to…” he stopped mid sentence as he opened the gift and discovered it was a polaroid. “You… you remembered,” he stuttered.

She nodded happily. “Now we are ready to make all those happy memories we have dreamed of.”

“Oh, Belle.”

She took the strap of the camera and put it across his chest. She then put her arms around his neck, closing the gap between them. He responded by putting his arms around her waist, tightening their embrace in such a way that the beating of his heart met hers and his lips hovered over hers invitingly. She didn’t need further sign to cling to his mouth and drink of the wine of his love.

 

_ The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard, _

_ The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky, _

_ Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard; _

_ Enough that he heard it once: we shall hear it by and by. _

(Robert Browning)

**Author's Note:**

> As Pierrot and Columbine are stock characters of the Commedia dell'Arte, their depiction has changed through time, with as many variations as places it has reached. For this fic I have chosen the typical version of brazilian and uruguayan carnival: Pierrot as the doleful, lonely man, rejected by everyone and Columbine as the princess or ballerina of the hypnotic smile.
> 
> This story is also loosely inspired by the songs "Colombina" and "Brindis por Pierrot" (A Toast to Pierrot) by Jaime Roos. To the last one belong the verses cited in the fic, which in the original Spanish say:
> 
> "En su mejilla  
> Un lagrimón brilla;  
> le ha tocado pasarse la vida  
> a solas con su corazón".
> 
> I want to thank Maenrest Corona and Marychovny for the beautiful artwork.


End file.
